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- Рэй Брэдбери
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- Марсианские хроники
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- Стр. 150/287
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"
Give
the
kid
a
break
,
Teece
.
"
Teece
walked
over
and
seized
the
boy
’
s
arm
.
"
He
’
s
mine
.
I
’
m
lockin
’
him
in
the
back
room
until
tonight
.
"
"
Don
’
t
,
Mr
.
Teece
!
"
The
boy
began
to
sob
now
.
His
crying
filled
the
air
of
the
porch
.
His
eyes
were
tight
.
Far
down
the
street
an
old
tin
Ford
was
choking
along
,
approaching
,
a
last
load
of
colored
people
in
it
.
"
Here
comes
my
family
,
Mr
.
Teece
,
oh
please
,
please
,
oh
God
,
please
!
"
"
Teece
,
"
said
one
of
the
other
men
on
the
porch
,
getting
up
,
"
let
him
go
.
"
Another
man
rose
also
.
"
That
goes
for
me
too
.
"
"
And
me
,
"
said
another
.
"
What
’
s
the
use
?
"
The
men
all
talked
now
.
"
Cut
it
out
,
Teece
.
"
"
Let
him
go
.
"
Teece
felt
for
his
gun
in
his
pocket
.
He
saw
the
men
’
s
faces
.
He
took
his
hand
away
and
left
the
gun
in
his
pocket
and
said
,
"
So
that
’
s
how
it
is
?
"
